


You're Just Drunk

by jemmymadz



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alcohol, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, alcohol cw, i just like domesticity okay i think it's really frickin cute, is this fluffy? i don't know, like sex isn't directly going on but it's definitely mentioned though not by name, you can infer things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 17:59:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10724364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemmymadz/pseuds/jemmymadz
Summary: James finally has a night to just relax and Thomas just wants him to come out and party.





	You're Just Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> Two quick notes:  
> 1\. Definitely got this idea from being on the receiving end of some kind-of-hilarious (and also a little inappropriate) drunk texts.  
> 2\. The phone names are written from both of their phones (so THOMAS is texts received by James and JEMMY is texts received by Thomas, in case that doesn't come across as clear).

It had been a relatively low-key evening. James lived alone and thoroughly enjoyed it. He was a homebody; there was no escaping it and he would be the first to admit it. His introverted nature and weaker immune system kept him home most nights, and tonight was no exception. He took his time making dinner, creating a chicken-alfredo pasta bake with garlic bread (made from scratch) and a vegetable medley of whatever he could find at the farmer’s market that morning (the one thing that always got James out of the house was the Saturday morning farmer’s market just a few blocks away). He propped his feet up on the coffee table, leaning back into the soft cushions of the couch, careful not to knock his plate waywards. A glass of red wine sat atop a coaster on the table, careful not to make a ring in the wood, and James turned on the TV to search through his Netflix queue.

One movie and six chapters of _Great Expectations_ later, the wine glass sat empty on the table, plates soaked in the sink, and James laid curled up under a quilt given to him by his grandmother. The only time he was ever in disarray was during sleep. James sprawled out, taking up the entire couch with his tall, muscular frame. One arm was flung over the edge of the couch, fingers trailing across the floor, while the other cradled his face. Mouth open, blanket lopsided, this was how James Madison slept.

Until his phone buzzed. Twice. Three times. Four—

James rubbed his eyes, groaning as he reached for his phone. “Seriously,” he grumbled, propping himself up with an elbow.

**THOMAS**

bb u up?

**THOMAS**

jemmy stop sleeping

**THOMAS**

jemmy answer your fuking phoen 

**THOMAS**

James Madison I request your presence  
immediately Come to Glitz <3 

Frowning, James locked his phone, set it back on the table, and rolled over to his other side. Tonight was not a night for going out. Tonight was a night for going to bed a decent hour because when does he ever get a night like this. Between his multiple part-time jobs and graduate school, there wasn’t a moment to spare. He was not getting off this couch unless his life depended on it.

The buzzing started up again.

**THOMAS**

you’re ignoring me and i can respect that  
but i do not appreciate it

**THOMAS**

james im drunk and i need you to  
dance with me rn 

**THOMAS**

james

**THOMAS**

james

**THOMAS**

james pls

 

James picked up his phone a second time.

 **JEMMY**  
Are you serious right now?

**THOMAS**

are you mad?

**THOMAS**

dont be maaddd i miss you

**JEMMY**

You saw me yesterday. And the  
day before that. You’re just drunk. Sober  
up, Thomas. 

James rolled onto his back, covering his face with his arms. There was nobody quite like Thomas Jefferson, nobody so entitled, so loud, so party-hardy. But there was also nobody quite like Thomas Jefferson, so gentle, so filled with life, so sweet when no one was watching. _That boy is going to lead me to an early grave,_ James thought. He took a deep breath and let out a loud, long sigh. His phone buzzed again.

**THOMAS**

jemmy dont be mad 

**THOMAS**

jemmy see you in 10

**JEMMY**

You’re coming over?

The phone sat silently in his hands as if the life drained out of it. James sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the couch and planting his feet firmly on the hardwood floor. His toes curled against the cool boards and he leaned forward, pushing himself off the couch. He picked up the blanket, wrapped it around him like a shawl, and picked up his empty wineglass. Moving towards the kitchen, his steps were slow and quiet despite his bulk. James had mastered the art of moving quietly in his childhood; his parents had been light sleepers, a trait he himself had inherited. He placed the wineglass in the sink and walked over to the coffee maker. He plugged it in and flipped the switch, the old machine whirring into action. He’d had it for ages and Thomas always offered to replace it, but it had gotten him through his undergraduate years and he could be a little sentimental.

On a shelf above the sink was a collection of mugs from his university, his local thrift store, and Thomas’ ventures around the globe. James drank a lot of coffee. He went through a lot of coffee cups during the week, especially during finals. Now that he was in graduate school, every day felt like finals week. Sighing, James reached up and brought two mugs down from shelf, placing them on the countertop. If Thomas was coming over, he was not going to be done with the party, and that meant it was up to James to sober him up. Thomas liked to joke that James was “too motherly to be suffering away in graduate school, trying to become a doctor.” It was good-natured, of course, and James always offered up the fact that not everyone could afford to whisk themselves off to France whenever they felt like it. It usually turned into an argument that usually ended with them in bed, so all was well.

As the ten minute mark rolled around, there was a loud knocking at the door accompanied by “JEMMY MADTOWN OPEN UP” in a sing-song voice. James rushed to the door, wary of his neighbors, and pulled a disheveled Thomas inside. Thomas was lanky, a few inches taller than James and at least fifty pounds lighter. His hair was held back by a bright purple headband, tight curls straining to be let loose. His dark eyes were lined with gold eyeliner (as Thomas liked flair) and a light layer of glitter covered him from head to foot. _I’m never going to get that out of the rugs,_ James thought, a slight frown curling his lips. Thomas threw his arms around James, twirling the two of them away from the door, laughing loudly. James steadied them and tugged Thomas towards the kitchen, pulling out a chair for him to sit.

“Jemmy, you wouldn’t _believe_ the party you missed,” Thomas said, throwing his arms out in a grandiose gesture. “Everyone was there, honestly. Even Aaron Burr and you know he can barely pull that stick out of his a—”

Thomas stopped mid-sentence as James placed a cup of coffee down in front of him. He wrapped his long fingers around it, bringing his face close to the rim to breathe in the warmth. He looked up at James, a slow smile spreading across his face. He took a long sip and let out a long “ahhhh” to show just how much he appreciated the life-giving drink.

“You’re happy to see me, aren’t you,” Thomas said, that slow smile back on his face.

James rolled his eyes. “Please, Thomas.”

“You are. Just admiddit. You’re happy I came over.”

“You’re drunk. Drink your coffee,” James said, settling into a chair across from him, gripping his own cup tightly.

They sat in relative silence for a bit, the only sound being Thomas humming some trashy tune from the club he left. James felt toes pressing up against his, a wandering foot traveling over his own. He looked up, staring at the man across from him. That smile remained as Thomas’ foot traveled higher and higher, closing in on James’ thigh. James stood abruptly, his chair rocking back violently. Thomas started laughing, throwing his head back, entire body shaking. James brought his empty cup over to the sink.

“When you’ve finished, you can find me,” James said, gesturing to the cup in front of Thomas. He raised an eyebrow and left the kitchen, heading straight for the bedroom.


End file.
